Know Life To See Decay
by kate-7h
Summary: Whilst out in the woods, Carol and Daryl fall into some trouble. They have to lean on each other to get back to the rest of the group. Post-S2/Pre-S3
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: So I'll update this fairly regularly, since I have it mostly written already. Hope you guys like it

**Disclaimer**: The Walking Dead (c) Robert Kirkman

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The summer had slipped away. The trees were beginning to look orangey and bare in the coming autumn season. Autumn didn't last long in Georgia. It was just the short amount of time between seasons for the leaves to die and the snow to fall. It was the kind of natural event to set the group to holding their breath in wait, the calm before the storm. And the calm was beautiful.

Daryl had always loved the fall before. There were too many colors to take in at one glance. The crisp, clear air filled his lungs as he had strode through the forest on his own. The green faded away to browns, golds, and oranges. Before they'd held the most beauty he'd ever beheld. Now it was only the death of another kind in the world which he lived in.

With the autumn, and the indisputable winter coming, the animals were becoming scarce. Many of them were going into hibernation, or migrating south, or simply being eaten. Which made hunting hours even longer and with less to show for it.

Runs were becoming more and more crucial. They were dire to the group's survival since the hunting was practically stamped out for the time being. Often their choices were between large roads with the stocked cars and towns and _herds_, or the backwoods with old abandoned houses they could pick clean after other survivors. But they managed. They survived.

But it was only autumn.

"You're pulling down and left. Recenter," Daryl said, eyeing Carol's arm as she shot her third bullet at the old beer bottle which posed as a target.

Shooting practice was a necessity at that point. They took the inexperienced of the group out one at a time and shot only a few rounds at a target to get a feel for the weapon. And to improve over time. If they wanted to survive, they _did _need to fight for it. Like Shane had said. Everyone needed to learn to shoot accurately. They couldn't afford any liabilities in this new, cruel world.

Carol sighed, then aimed again. Her bullet was more centered, but still low. It smashed through the branch which the bottle rested on.

"Try again. Aim higher, just a little."

Daryl and Carol had walked out a few miles sometime in the afternoon. The further they could get from the house the group had currently settled in, the better. It was best not to draw an unnecessary herd on their heads with gun practice.

Carol shot again, this time smashing the bottle into a million ale-colored shards. She turned a wide smile to him, bigger and brighter than he'd seen on her face in a while. He couldn't help but return his own sheepish one.

"I've got six bullets left," Carol said, checking the chamber.

Daryl nodded, "Let's head back. Gotta conserve ammo. We can practice some more later."

"Alright," Carol followed in step with him as they started back towards the house where the group had holed up.

The breath before his face was white, distracting him for a moment from the path in front of him. The days were getting colder, darker. Yet, there was still an aching beauty of the nature around them. The forest still clinging to the last edges of life.

"It's really pretty out here," Carol stated, as if reading his thoughts.

"Yeah, fall always is."

Carol opened her mouth to speak, but Daryl held his hand up. His eyes scanned the trees around them, listening. Carol looked around as well. Distantly, they could hear the low growls of the walking dead coming in their direction from somewhere in the forest.

Daryl took another inventory around, his crossbow up and ready. So far, no geeks had made their way towards them from the brush, intent on tearing their skin from their bones.

"Where are they comin' from?" Carol whispered.

Daryl squinted his eyes, then gestured to the east, "I think that way."

"Then we should go west."

They kept their footsteps light as they made their way west. Daryl's feet landed among the crackling leaves with foresight and skill, every move designed to be stealthy. Carol had had no such training. She'd had no reason nor experience to learn so before. Her feet snapped every dry and dead thing they came in contact with. But so far no geeks had heard them and come running for dinner. The gunshots from Carol's practice must've drawn the geeks in, but they had gotten away quick enough to avoid the gathered herd.

At the edge of the forest was a clearing. They stopped when the trees did and watched as it opened up to the wide top of a ravine. The dirt was dry and light, as if autumn hadn't touched it yet and it was still living in the summer heat, soaking in the moisture from the air.

Daryl stepped right up to the cliff's edge, peering down as his toes grazed the open space beneath. Down below, there were a couple dozen walkers meandering about. The ravine bottom itself looked like some kind of creek bed. Long dried out. The weeds and greenery grew over and into it, pouring down the way like they had taken the place of the absent water.

He glanced beside him to see Carol standing right there. She'd fearlessly taken on the height, head held high in the chilled breeze. A glow of pride for her warmed him slightly. She'd really come far since he'd first met her at the quarry.

"Let's not take a tumble down there," Daryl spat over the edge. "The fall don't kill ya, them walkers will."

Carol nodded, "Good tip. 'Cause I was really considering it."

Daryl rolled his eyes as she grinned impishly.

They walked the edge of the ravine together, south towards the hideout of the group. Carol drew her sweater around herself, trying to hold in the heat with the thin material. The months were getting colder as the coming winter wrestled the summer air out of the way.

"It ain't too far back to camp," He said quietly, glancing at her slightly trembling shoulders. "A few miles."

"Good," Carol said, nodding again.

As they walked, the naturally cleared path along the gorge gradually filled with boulders and rocks. Some were about as tall as Daryl or even taller, some was just gravel. Each ranged in size.

They made their way through the craggy maze, footsteps grinding into the sharp stones below. Daryl watched as Carol ran her hand through the tall, golden grass. It had sprouted up and in between the rocks and boulders, as if it were trying to reach the sun's warm light before the inevitable frost obliterated it.

Carol looked at him again, as if she could feel his eyes on her. She smiled at him gently, still trancing her hand through the dead grass. Daryl smiled a little at her and kept walking.

The only warning sound of the coming walkers was the wind-blown and downed out moan as they came out from around a large boulder. One stumbled into Daryl's path, snapping at his face. The other groped the air for Carol's flesh and blood.

Daryl pulled out his hunting knife as fast as he could, the thing already gripping onto the front of his jacket. Pushing forward hard against it's chest, Daryl crashed it and himself against and on top of the boulder beside him, the grainy dirt at it's base toppling off the ravine edge.

He plunged the knife deep into the walker's skull, viscera and ooze spurting out as he twisted the blade for good measure. Making sure the twice dead _thing_ wouldn't need a third try. The boney fingers which had clung to his clothes relaxed and released.

Daryl almost heaved a sigh of relief when the boulder his body lay sprawled across started to slip. The ground around it cracking like a damn egg shell. It was about to fall into the ravine. With him and that dead walker on board.

Before he could leap from it, Carol grabbed his wrist and pulled him to solid ground. Just as his knees hit the dirt, the boulder behind him was airborne, taking his last victim down with it.

Daryl could feel his heart pounding as he ground his knees in the rocky dirt, turning to watch. Carol's hand's were wrapped protectively around his arm, but he didn't really care all that much in the moment. They leaned forward over the gap in the ravine edge which the boulder left. Down below, the boulder crashed into the dried up creek bed. The sound of stone against stone in the echoey gorge rang throughout the forest like damned church bells.

Standing, Daryl picked up Carol's blackened and bloodied knife. Beside it lay the rotting corpse of the walker she'd just killed. He felt that sense of pride for her swell in him again.

He wiped the blade on his pants, "You dropped this."

She took it as he handed it to her, "Thanks. We should get outta here."

"Yeah."

Carol stood beside him as he ground his boots into the soil. Daryl felt the steadiness of the earth below his feet. It reminded him again of how much he wanted to live. To survive.

Maybe that resolution was just in time for him to die.

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**A/N**: Annnnnddd cliffhanger... Reviews are encouraging :)


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**: So the second chapter gets a little more dramatic. Kay, read on. (By the way, answers to reviews in the bottom notes)

**Disclaimer**: The Walking Dead (c) Robert Kirkman

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"Shit," Daryl muttered.

Carol had seen them too. And _they'd _seen them. About two dozen walkers emerged from the trees, most likely the same pack who'd been stalking them after gun practice. Their dead eyes leered at them with blight hunger. Their teeth gnashed as they charged forward.

"Let's go!" Daryl shouted, shooting his crossbow bolt through the eye socket of the corpse nearest to them.

They ran through the forest, changing their direction from the hideaway house. If they were going to get overrun by a semi-herd, it was best to not take the rest of the group down with them.

As they ran, Daryl checked his gun's ammo situation. Four. Carol had said she had six. That made ten bullets between them against roughly twenty geeks. They'd have to make them count.

Daryl spun around and planted his feet, his eyes trained and aimed for the kill. The gunshots clanged throughout the forest as the walkers dropped. _One_. Right through the eye. Daryl turned and ran to keep up with Carol as they fled. Again, he stopped and aimed for the walkers. _Two_. The blood sprayed across another one of their faces as the twice dead thing limply fell. Run. _Three. Four_.

With any luck there weren't anymore of them nearby to come running for the dinner bell.

_Click_.

"Damn it," Daryl muttered as the hammer slammed down, indicating the empty weapon. Carol turned and started to hand him her gun.

"Naw, how 'bout some real-world experience?" Daryl grunted, lifting his feet over the brush in his path.

Carol glanced at him incredulously, "You serious? Barely hit the still target."

He gestured back to the walkers behind them, "You got this."

Shrugging, Carol skidded to a stop, her feet sliding slightly in the dirt and weeds. Daryl stood beside her. The walkers were coming at them. Fast. She took her aim, lifting the barrel up and fired once. The bullet went right past them into the bushes.

Carol shoved the gun into Daryl's hands, "We don't have time for that right now."

"Alright," Daryl nodded as he aimed at the oncoming crowd. Five more walkers down and five more bullets gone. He shot until he heard the unsatisfactory sound of the hammer clapping down.

"C'mon."

They ran through the forest, branches whipping them in the face. Daryl had never felt more at home than in the woods, but in that moment he didn't really care at all. Flesh-eating freaks chasing him were enough to make him keep his thoughts and priorities in check. It wasn't really the time to feel nostalgic.

The trees opened up to a riverbed, lined with sand and stones and shrubbery. It wasn't an unfamiliar sight to Daryl. When they'd 'made camp' at the little house for longer than a few nights, he had taken it upon himself to scope out the area. The river was strong and deep. Most likely freezing, too at the time of year they were at. It looked pretty clean, though. It might even be a good place for fishing, if they could figure out how to catch them without any poles or equipment. Daryl had always been more of a hunter than a fisherman, before the whole apocalypse went down.

They ran across the sandy bed, their feet sinking into the deep sediment. The growls of the dead were audible, but they hadn't emerged from the treeline just yet.

"There," Carol said, pointing ahead. Daryl nodded, but had to swallow back his unease at her escape plan.

A tall, thin tree trunk had fallen across the wide river. It was lying right across, just a foot or two above the water. It looked narrow and damp and dangerous even from the distance they were running from. As they got closer, the moss and algae growing on it were obvious.

Carol started across first, glancing at him cautiously as her foot slipped the first step she took. Daryl turned his back to her as he watched the walkers appear through the trees. He pulled his crossbow from his back and held it aloft, almost like it was second nature. The arrow flew through the walker's skull.

"Don't fall in," He said over his shoulder, his voice low as he loaded another. Two bolts left.

Crouched over, Carol crept across the log. Her feet scooted slowly as she steadied herself with her hands.

"Daryl, come on!" She shouted over the river.

Daryl shot his arrow, then with nimble fingers loaded the last one as he clambered onto the log. The surface was just as slick as his observation had informed him. His feet skidded around as he walked the log sideways, turning his head to keep his eyes on the oncoming walkers and Carol both. His balance was better than Carol's from years of training and practice, but he was still having trouble holding steady on the slick wood.

She was nearly to the center when he reached her. Daryl bent down in a crouch to grip the wood with one hand, his loaded crossbow with the other.

The walkers were on the river bed. Their rotting feet were having trouble in the deep sand, but they were still coming. Slower, but they were all the same. They would reach the end of the log in minutes. Daryl backed up in his crouched position, his eyes fixed on the distance between them and the geeks. He could feel the wet moss and rancid blood encrusting his fingers.

There was a small amount of comfort in the thought that the walkers would not have the precise concentration and motor skills to balance and crawl across the exceptionally slick log. They might all just slip off one by one into the river and be swept away. Daryl almost prayed for that small chance at luck.

It couldn't come, of course.

A loud crack and a shriek rang out behind him, causing Daryl to spin wildly, almost losing his balance. Horror rolled through him as he saw Carol hanging from the log, her legs hanging in the water. She had tried to use one of the log's protruding nubs as a hand hold, but it was weak and couldn't support her weight. Her feet slipped had off as her arm hooked onto the slick, mossy surface.

"Carol!" Daryl leapt forward onto his stomach. His crossbow, looped around his arm dangled over the edge along with Carol. He grabbed onto her arm as he clung to the mossy log with his other arm and legs. Despite all that, he still felt himself sliding down with her.

Carol tried to dig her fingernails into the rotten wood, but couldn't get any sort of grip, "You're gonna fall in!"

Daryl felt her tugging at his grasp, pulling away from him toward the water, "The hell you doin'?"

"You can survive, Daryl" She said close to his face, barely audible over the rush of the river. She glanced to where the walkers had reached the water's edge. The log. The down below to the river where it pulled at her toes.

"That ain't happen'," Daryl stated, yanking hard on her wrist.

They slid further down the side. Daryl looked around frantically at their surroundings. The geeks weren't ten feet from them. Carol was dangling over a frigid, rushing river. He would go in with her in his attempt to save her from said river. Or he could let go of her arm and save himself. None of the options were favorable.

"Hold on," Daryl said, his voice low.

Carol shook her head, "No-"

Then they were submerged.

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**A/N**: So yeah, I might be addicted to cliffhangers... I'm sorry...anyways.

_Carylite: _Great start, can't wait to read more.

**Thanks, I hope you do. This one has been an interesting write.**

_vickih: _I like it. shows how their bond grew stronger.

**Thank you, I'm glad you like it. Also, that was sorta the theme of the story, showing that they'd grown closer and such.**

_adelicateflower08: _Great start!

**Thanks!**

_i luv ewansmile: _Nice start!

**Thank you!**

_alibabwa_: Wonderfully atmospheric and great personal touches with Daryl and Carol. I particularly liked Carol's snarky reply to Daryl about falling off the cliff.

**Thank you so much! I really like to keep the people I write in character as much as possible, but sometimes things like that just slip out. I think Carol's just too sassy and needs to not be contained.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: Sorry this chapter is a little short... *shrug*

**Disclaimer**: The Walking Dead (c) Robert Kirkman

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Daryl's head broke the surface of the water. His lungs burned as he gasped in a long breath after being tumbled head first into the current. Carol's hand was tight in his grasp as she struggled to swim upward with him. Daryl yanked at her wrist whilst still treading to keep himself afloat. Carol sucked in a breath, her face panicked as she surfaced.

After she'd caught her breath, Carol splashed water at Daryl's face, "You shouldn't have done that."

Daryl shook the water from his face, ignoring her, "If we swim with the current we might be able to get ourselves to shore."

"Before we freeze to death," Carol added, a distinguishable tremor in her voice.

She was right, the water was absolutely frigid. It was nearly winter in seasons and the day itself was getting darker. Of course the water was cold . And the air outside of it hadn't been much warmer either. It had chilled them to simply breathe it in. Choking in a gulp of the dense water was a completely different story. Daryl could almost hear Carol's teeth clattering over the sound of his own.

He gripped her wrist tighter. The water was calm, but the current was strong as they kicked desperately to stay above the surface.

Daryl's voice trembled as he spoke, "We d-don't let go. You got that?"

Carol nodded curtly, "Yeah. Not lettin' go."

The muscles in Daryl's legs ached as he tried to maneuver them towards the water's edge. They longed to stop, but to stop would be to slip under the surface, and he was going to survive. _They_ were going to survive.

Slowly but surely the brush near the shore was within their reach. Daryl extended his arm for the wispy branches and dying leaves. But the river dragged them away too quickly. Daryl's fist was full of dead plants.

"Daryl-" Carol said, her mouth filling with water. "I'm really tired."

Daryl felt the slowing of his own limbs. The icy water sinking into him and turning him off, one function at a time. And Carol was feeling the exact same thing.

He pushed and pumped his legs with more vigor than he had, but there wasn't much time left. Exhaustion had a way of being overwhelming when the time came.

"We'll have to- wait till the water slows up," Daryl responded, spitting the water from his mouth.

Carol let her head fall backward, looking up towards the sky. The utter expenditure was seeping out from her entire being, "It's getting faster."

It was. Shallower too. Daryl felt a creeping sense of dread settle in him as he felt his boots scrape along the rocky bottom. He looked ahead, past the foliage which littered the shores. Fear transformed to utter terror as the white water became apparent.

"Shit, we gotta get outta here," Daryl said, frantically swimming towards the nearest branches. A new found strength coursed through him. Adrenaline.

"Damn it!"

The current was too strong though. They were being pulled forward, and the river would not permit any other direction. The were grated along the bottom, the water still up to their chests.

Daryl tried pulled Carol closer to him, his hand gripping her wrist with hers grasping his. He reached out and grabbed her other hand, barely reaching her hand instead of the better grip of her arm. They clung to each other's fingers. Water poured over them as the river dragged them through the rough current.

"Hold on!" He shouted, the water falling over his face.

As if trying to throw everything it had at them, a large rock appeared right between their outstretched arms. Carol hit it hard with her forearm. She screamed as she released his arm. He only had her fingers. Only four of her fingers.

The large boulders littered their path. They split the current and made whirlpools. It happened so suddenly. Carol got caught in a ripping current separate from Daryl. And it disconnected them. Daryl felt Carol's fingers tear out of his hand as she was pulled away and under the surface.

"No!" Daryl shouted, loud as his voice cracked. "No."

The water yanked him down the slope of the river, picking up even more speed. He let it. There wasn't any stopping. Daryl was dunked in and out of the frigid water.

A large rock protruding out of the water came into his water-soaked view. Daryl made a grab for it, attempting to hang onto the top of the thing and then figure out what to do next. Try to find Carol. Pray for that to be in the cards.

Instead, the algae growing on it's back scraped right off under his fingernails. It turned him about in the water, taking on the river backwards.

Without a chance to turn himself around, a blinding sense of pain struck him at his side and pierced him through and through.

Daryl heard a shout, his own cry of agony, as if it were someone else. His sanguine eyes were fading, his eyelids flickering at the splashing of water.

The world turned to black as he sunk down in the drift.

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**A/N**: Okay, that one's done. Reviews are really encouraging, readers :)

_hanagirl_: Really enjoyed that. Look forward to more soon...

**I'm glad you enjoyed it!**

_BattyNora_: I was intrigued by this as the title is a lyric from a favourite song of time (and one that always makes me think of TWD).

Enjoying it so far - looking forward to an update.

**I love that song as well, and it is totally a twd song. It's lovely and gorgeous and the lyric just fit somehow in my head. I'm glad you're enjoying!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N**: New chapter! Yay! Hope y'all like and stuff. (Side note, you guys super freakin excited for sunday? cause I totes am)

**Disclaimer**: The Walking Dead (c) Robert Kirkman

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Daryl could feel before he could see. There was the sinking wan all around him, invading his senses. Then the white hot pain erupting from his torso. It was a stark contrast. He thrashed as his opened his eyes to the bottom of the river, air unable to enter his lungs.

Mustering what little strength he had, Daryl heaved against the sandy floor with his feet, trying to ignore the agony. Not drowning was his priority at that moment.

He broke the surface, water splashing up all around him. Daryl coughed violently, expelling the water he'd breathed in out of his body. Wheezing, he surveyed the area he'd landed in. Standing in the river, it was only waist deep. Not very far off from where he stood were the rapids, or small waterfall, he assumed he'd just been regurgitated from.

Attached to his shoulder was his _extremely _faithful crossbow. The last arrow which had been locked and loaded was missing and the taut string which had been ready to fire the bolt had broken in half. But the frame was intact. Lucky. It would've been a damn shame to have to scavenge for a new one somewhere.

Daryl went to loop it around his back, but the pain at his side was too excruciating. There was most likely a fractured rib or two. Daryl looked down to see his rusty-colored blood swirling away in the light current. _Open wound too._

"Shit."

The waterfall emptied into a sort of cove, an enclosed little tarn of solitude in the middle of the forest. The current curved around the space gently, as if it hadn't just chucked him through a lethal version of waterworld. No, the place was calm and quiet. Almost serene. If it weren't for the panic he was feeling he would've been too in such a place.

"Carol," He muttered, looking around the little well as the water dripped from the hair on his face. If she'd gone the same route he had, this cove is where she should've ended up. There in the peaceful hythe.

"Carol!" Daryl shouted, his lungs and side burning as he did. Nostalgia seeped into his very bones, leaving him colder than he'd been before. Looking, calling, failing. It wasn't something he wanted to repeat. He'd failed that little girl, he couldn't fail her mother here in the woods. No way.

Daryl waded closer to where the calm water met with the rapids. From there he could view the entire space of the circular bay. Over the surface at least. The rocks and brush underneath was a different story. His heart stuttered at the thought of feeling around the bottom for her body.

It couldn't end that way.

Thankful to any and every God in existence, Daryl spotted her pale hand just visible out of the scrub at the shore. A splash of red against the pale skin was pronounced even at his distance.

Daryl trudged through the water in her direction. As he neared her, he faltered. Hesitant to see the crumpled, broken body of his friend. Of Carol. Fearful that he might have to keep her from turning. Daryl shuddered, though it had nothing to do with the frigid water in which he stood. He soldiered on, resigned to do what was necessary.

Nudging the bushes aside, Daryl let out a long sigh of relief. The briar vines had caught her and held her above the water, her face upwards toward the sky. She was bleeding from various cuts across her skin. Most prominent was the seeping gash on her forehead. There was also a large purple bruise along on her forearm, likely the place where the current had smashed them into the rock, Carol taking the brunt of the impact.

Daryl lifted his hand to her face, feeling for her breath. It wasn't until that moment when he truly felt how chilled he was, when her warm breath made contact with his damp fingers. Call it release of adrenaline, call it preoccupation. The wintry air seeped in then, cutting to his bones. But it didn't matter in that moment. All that mattered right then was that Carol was alive. And he was alive.

But they wouldn't stay that way if they didn't get back to the group. As soon as they could.

Ignoring the feeling of being stabbed repeatedly, Daryl untangled Carol from the thorns and eased her back into the water. He wrapped his right arm under hers, then across her chest and gripped her shoulder. He let her head loll back and forth in unconsciousness against his own shoulder. Thankfully the water was shallow enough to walk through. Daryl wasn't sure if he could swim anymore, especially toting another person with him. He stepped slowly through the drink towards the shore, dragging Carol along with him. Through his pain, he took comfort in the fact the he could feel her heartbeat against his chest.

By the time his feet reached dry land, he was gasping in pain. Daryl fell to his knees as he gently laid Carol down in the sand, then collapsed beside her onto his uninjured side. She looked almost dead the way she was just lying there, her face incredibly stark white and drenched the way she was. That cut on her head obviously meant a concussion, and her slipping into a coma was the last thing they needed right then.

"Carol. Carol, wake up," Daryl said, shaking her.

It took a few moments of tense panic, but Carol's eyelids did flutter. Her blue eyes flickering around blurrily until they found his face, the warm liquid slipping down her face as she turned her neck to look at him.

"We okay?" She asked, her voice audibly trembling.

Daryl shook his head slightly, "Not if we freeze out here."

Bracing herself against the ground, Carol sat up. Daryl followed, unable to hold in his moan of pain.

"What's wrong?" Carol asked, her eyes falling to the blood soaking through his water-logged clothes.

Daryl shrugged, "We fell down a waterfall, n'case you didn't notice."

Carol tilted her head, ignoring his quip, "Can I see please?"

Daryl tensed, but obliged. Wincing, he moved his coat and vest aside before lifting his shirt. Carol leaned closer, examining his wound.

"Pretty sure it's broken," He said, keeping his eyes on her as her face grew more and more grave.

"It's not good," Carol glanced up at his questioning face. "Yeah, it's broken. Think a few maybe. But one's gone through your skin, and your bleeding a lot."

Daryl let out a harsh breath as he stamped his foot. Through the chill which shuddered down into his bones, he could feel his own hot blood running in rivulets down his exposed skin. Far too much for comfort.

Carol shrugged out of her soggy sweater and wrung it out, "We need to stop the bleeding."

She looped the ratty sweater about his rib cage, underneath his jacket. The knot was tied right up against the open wound. Daryl cried out, fingers grinding into the dirt.

"Sorry," Carol said with a frown.

Daryl could feel his sweat dripping down his forehead as he looked up at her. Carol's eyes were soft and apologetic. He held her gaze for a moment, attempting to tell her her sorry wasn't necessary. It would be fine. They'd be fine. It was easier to have those silent conversations with her.

Multiple splashes behind them interrupted their silent interaction. One after the other. Daryl and Carol turned to watch as the walkers from the forest before slipped from the rapids into the calm bay. They groaned, dripping as they stood on their undead legs. Their teeth snapped as they made their way towards the fresh scent of blood at the shore. Carol and Daryl were chum in shark infested waters. Daryl went to grab his knife, but Carol pressed her hand over his, stopping him.

"You'll make yourself worse," She said, yanking out her own blade from it's sheath.

Daryl shooed her away, "Better than bein' dead."

The geeks struggled in the waist-high water, shoving their way through the dense liquid. They clawed at the surface, attempting to scratch their way closer faster. Carol moved to stand from her crouched position, swaying as her hand gripped the ground below her. Daryl watched her crimson blood drip down from her crown into the sand.

"I'm alright," She said as she touched her fingers gingerly to the cut, bruising blossoming out from it's sides.

Daryl whimpered slightly as he stood, hand hovering over the cracked ribs, "Then let's kill them sons of bitches."

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**A/N**: So yeah, likely the next chapter will be after the premier. So there ya go. Reviews are so wonderful guys. Seriously, lovely

_Vickih_: Awesome work building the tension and fear. Rapids are scary as all get out when you are trapped on them.

**Thanks, dear. Yeah, one time I was swimming in a river with my friend near where I live, and the current got really rough. We were okay though :)**

_BattyNora_: More! More!

Don't leave us there!

**Here ya go! New chapter!**

_alibabwa_: Well done action chapter and pretty terrifying. Eager to see what happens next.

**Thank you very much! I think listening to the Lost soundtrack maybe helped with the intensity.**

_AnonymousMe03_: Wow...this is so well written! I'm on the edge of my seat! I hope you don't make us wait too long for the next installment; I'm hooked :)

**Here's the next chapter! Glad you like it**

_tammgrogan_: I hate cliffhangers, but I do like your story. Keep up the good writings

**Oh well, seeing as I can't seem to stop leaving off on them we may be at an impasse...**

_Star Starer of Moonlit Skies_: Really enjoying this story. :) Just a word of advice: try not to use the same word for a noun over and over again or it gets repetitive. But I love the story and hope you can update again soon!

**Thanks for the tip, I'll keep that in mind. And thanks for loving my story!**

_ .75_: More please I want to know what's going to happen next, pleasseeeeee

**Here's more, darlin! Have fun with it**

_Guest_: Update!

**Here ya go, yo!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N**: Wasn't that premier fantastic? I just sat there in awe through most of it. And a bunch it was just adorable, I almost forgot which show I was watching... (I wrote a oneshot about it, n'case yer interested.. it's called **Bring You Down**)

Okay, self-promoting over. SO I went on this mini road trip last weekend and drove by a raging river and DUDES. It is so different looking at it like that then taking it from a long ago memory/enhanced imagination. I kinda understand that it was a bit traumatizing now so...sorry?

**Disclaimer**: The Walking Dead (c) AMC, Robert Kirman

* * *

Daryl strongly stood, his feet solidly planted in the soil of the beach. Shoulder to shoulder, he and Carol waited as the walkers fumbled through the water towards them. The deep, anticipating gulp which he drew into his lungs made him wince as he glanced at Carol's wobbling frame. Her face was a sight of viscera, red draping her forehead and down into her eyes. As he thought it, she swiped her arm across it, clearing her vision.

And what a view it was.

A dozen or so geeks were in the water, their rotting flesh bloated. Rancid blood floated away from their fresh wounds which were inflicted by the river. Some were even already twice dead, brain matter polluting the clean spring. Their heads must've been smashed into the large boulders which had broken his ribs.

One was missing a leg. It pawed it's way along the bottom rocks and weeds, reaching the shore before the rest. Puffy and grotesque, it snarled it's ugly face up at them. It's finger-claws swiped close to Carol's shins, making her step back slightly before bending down to drive her knife through it's crown. Less blood than was expected seeped from the fatal blow. The river must've drained it out.

Standing, Carol nearly fell right back to the ground but steadied herself in time. Daryl reached out, placing his hand on her shoulder. She glanced at him with a nod. Truthfully, it was miraculous that they were both on their feet at all. Much less set to take down walkers.

Three more made their way up the bank. The geek came right at him, opening and closing fists. Daryl took a light step back then leapt forward, launching himself at the undead's face. His hunting knife sliced through the moldy, turgid flesh and bone. It's discolored blood splattered his face and neck as he yanked his blade free. Daryl would've liked to say his yelp was some sort of battle cry.

Letting the walker fall the the soft ground, Daryl looked to Carol. Two corpses lay at her feet as she drove her own blade into a third's eye socket. It's groping arms fell as the body went limp against her. Carol shoved it to the side before it could push her over. She looked up to him, her face strained and tired as she gave him a small smile.

It took way longer than was safe to finish the rest of the pack, but there they stood. Daryl's shoes gut-splattered, his feet slumping inside them. The deformed heaps lay beneath them. Daryl smelled the reeking scent of walkers guts covering him, Carol, and everything else in the area. Overpowering anything else.

The busted up ribs at his side felt as if they were on fire, or being repeatedly stabbed over and over as he was just standing there. He could feel his fists shaking at his sides.

"Do you know which way we go?" Carol asked, steadying herself against him. "We can't stay here so exposed."

Daryl looped his arm around her back, holding her up. She wound her own arm across his shoulder and down his back, avoiding his injuries.

He could feel her skin pressed against the damp materials separating her from his scars. For all of his life he made an effort to shield them from sight, or touch. However soft, or _hard_ it may have been. Daryl made the conscious effort to ignore his first instinct of pushing her away right then. Carol needed him to keep standing to hold her up, and honestly, he needed her for the very same reason. Daryl felt weakness in his limbs as he leaned softly against her, his breath ragged with exertion and frustration. He couldn't even carry his own crossbow. Carol had it on her own back for him.

Peering around the trees, Daryl took in the landscape and the direction of the river. He jutted his chin to the side of them, "That way. And the river took us downhill from where we gotta get."

"Alright," Carol replied, gripping tighter to him. "How long do you think till the sun goes down?"

"Not too long," He answered with a wince. "Couple hours at most. We gotta get movin'."

Together, they walked through the forest, one step after another. The dry, lifeless leaves crackled underneath their boots. Daryl could feel her dragging him along as much as he was her. They were both practically dead weight. Living walkers.

Daryl shook off the thought and kept moving. Kept lifting his feet instead of the motion of dragging them. Consciously trying to feel the strength within his body each time he stamped down. Almost rejecting the situation. He and Carol were _not _injured and bleeding, limping their way through the turning trees. The air was _not _frigid. The sun was _not _going down. They were going to be fine. And everything he had just thought was _completely_ true.

He wasn't really fooling himself.

Carol leaned hard against him all of a sudden, nearly knocking the both of them to the forest floor. Daryl put out his other foot, stabilizing them before they could both careen down on top of him and his ribs. His teeth bit down into his cheek hard to keep from crying out at the sudden movement and pressure. But in a moment, she was already standing upright again.

"I'm fine," She said, her voice weak.

"The hell you are," Daryl muttered, holding more securely under her arm.

Carol let her chin fall against her chest, exhaling deeply, "It's just-my head..and this cold air isn't helping anything."

Wincing, she grabbed her forehead with her free hand. She was right about the air. It was worse with them still being so wet. Daryl could feel his teeth chattering. His own coat, usually warm, was cold to the touch. But it was probably better than the thin shirt she'd been left with. Daryl glanced down at her sweater tied around his ribs, soaked with river water and his own blood.

"Hold up," Daryl grunted, releasing her from his arm.

Gingerly, Daryl shrugged off his jacket and handed it to her, angel wing vest and all. Carol looked at him quizzically.

"Go on. I took your sweater."

Carol gave a little laugh, then pulled his crossbow off over her head and tucked herself into his jacket. It most likely wasn't much warmer than before, but damp or not it still made a good windbreaker. Daryl was just grateful he wore long sleeves that morning.

"Thank you, Daryl," She said, wrapping him in her arm as they began to move again.

He nodded.

* * *

**A/N**: Reviews will bring you the satisfaction of making my day brighter. Seriously, I love hearing from you

_vickih: tension and fear are still building.. I love it! ouch on the broken ribs, I've had a few and they really suck! Enjoy the premier..See you after :)_

**Oh, just wait. Ya know, I've never actually broken a bone... OH how'd you like the premier? I thought it was brilliant.**

_alibabwa: Great new chapter. Descriptions of Daryl pulling himself out from the water was really well done and I liked the call back and Daryl's dislike of the familiarity of standing in water, wound at his side, calling out for someone missing._

_Glad Darl found Carol at least and she was able to help him with his wound. They're both pretty banged up and now walkers? No breaks in the zombie apocalypse!_

**Yeah, the search for Sophia was a changing event to his character. Not likely something he'd forget. **

**Actually, they do kinda get a chance to relax in the next chapt I think. Kinda...**

_BattyNora: I know it shouldn't but the vision of walkers tumbling down a waterfall before standing up and continue had me chuckling. Bless their little undead socks._

_Good chapter, enjoying this story!_

**Oh geez, now I'm just seeing them sliding down into a brightly colored ball pit... And thanks, glad you are :)**

_DarkestInk: Well written and very exciting. Can't wait for the next chapter!_

**Thank you very much! Thank means a lot *hug***

_RhiannonMuir:_ (**4 separate reviews**)

_I loved it. c:_ ***Squee***

_Omfg fjbhbj. _

_No omfg. Cnbub SF jbydhurghy._

_I loved it, I'm glad they are okay for now. _

**Glad you loved it, but okay is relative. They'll live!**

_tracys dream: Awesome story!  
Looking forward to more._

**Aww, thank**

_Star Starer of Moonlit Skies: Ahh! So good. Can't wait for the next update (and the premiere!)!_

***hugs* And now we wait for 4x02**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N**: Sorry it's been a bit. I've had stuff.. Anyway 4x02! WHAT. WHAT! Scary illness! My sister thinks it would be good, story-wise, to get Daryl sick. Then get better. Sound like a fic you guys would be interested in?

(sidenote-why do I always update this reeaaalllyyyy sleep deprived?)

**Disclaimer**: The Walking Dead (c) AMC, Robert Kirkman

* * *

The commotion of the gunfire from before and the splatter of walker guts across their clothes must've kept the path of the forest relatively clear. Daryl tagged that as a blessing to count later. One or two geeks did cross their path, but they were easier to take down than that ravenous group they'd slain at the riverbed. Or should've been.

Daryl gripped the knitted material of Carol's sweater with whitened knuckles. Letting go, his hand came away covered in red. Hastily, he wiped the hot blood on his shirt as Carol stepped back to where he slouched. Her gait was sideways as she gripped his arm again. She wasn't any better, and Daryl was getting more and more woozy.

"Son of a bitch," He muttered, wiping the last of it off his hand.

Looking up, Carol's face was etched with worry. Daryl almost scoffed, eyeing the deep gash across her forehead. At least it had stopped bleeding. Unlike his wound.

"How far are we?" Carol asked, her eyes darting away from him to the forest horizon.

Daryl shrugged one of his shoulders, "Not far. We should make it by sundown. But we have to go over that hill."

Carol nodded, "Then let's go before you bleed out. You're starting to look pale."

"I'm fine," Daryl retorted with a wince.

"The hell you are," Carol smirked as she threw his own words back at him. Daryl let out the scoff he'd held in before.

The hill wasn't nearly as steep as the cliff he'd scaled while he'd been scouring the woods for that little girl, but damn was it enough to slow them to a draggingly slow limp. The incline had their legs burning a they hunched forward, hauling themselves upward.

Daryl kept thinking of much lighter he felt then he had back then, carrying the weight of a dead girl's doll. Bringing that back to shove more false hope at her mother. Couldn't get it off his mind. What he and Carol were doing in the present was basic survival, pure and simple. But that little girl cropped up too much for emotional comfort.

They were making progress. Pretty close to halfway up, and Daryl was feeling confident that they would make it back to the group by sundown. That is, until his foot slid in a patch of mud he'd failed to see. Alone, he would've caught himself, but Carol lost her balance as he did. Feeling a horrible sense of déjà vu, they toppled down the leaf covered incline which they had just climbed up.

Bones like shattering glass, Daryl heard his shout echo out from his mouth. He clamped down hard on his cheek, ending the sound. He tasted iron in his mouth.

At last, the spinning stopped. Daryl felt the crunch of sticks and leaves surround him as he landed in a bank of them at the foot of the hill. Carol had rolled down right along with him. He felt the top of her head graze his as she moved to sit up. Then lay back down again, hands gripping her head like a vice.

"Daryl?" Her voice was strained, scalp moving against his own hair.

Daryl couldn't respond, couldn't open his mouth. He didn't want to scream again. Any more walkers right then would most likely be the death of them.

He and Carol laid like that for some time. Regaining their strength is was he told himself, but he knew he wasn't able to move. Not yet. Even laying down, his head felt light while the rest of his body felt immensely heavy. And he was bleeding even worse now than he was before their tumble. So they were regaining their strength, or letting it seep out even more.

Either way, neither of them moved from their spot at the base of the hill. Instead, Daryl concentrated on the woods, trying to remove the pain from his consciousness. He watched the leaves flicker their golden light in the fading sun as they blew away from the large oak just twenty feet from his turned head. The free flying sparrow fly swept low across the blanketed forest floor. Above, the clouds were beginning to take on a pinkish lavender hue in the Georgian sky.

Shit, he was cold.

"Carol?" Daryl said, his voice groggy after not speaking for what must've been an hour or so. "We gotta go."

There was no response. Only the whistling wind which swept through the tall grass and sent shivers up his spine.

"Carol?" He tried again, shifted his head against the top of hers.

No sound but the music of the forest met his ears.

Utter agony flared in him as Daryl rolled onto his stomach, holding himself above the ground where the broken bones were. Below his face was Carol. Her breath was faint against his face. Slow. The features of her face were laxed, even tranquil in her unconsciousness.

Fear clutching at his lungs, Daryl reached out with his free hand to her cooled skin. His fingers shook as he lifted her eyelids, confirming the difference in pupil sizes.

"Wake up, Carol," Daryl spoke loudly in her ears, shaking her gruffly. She remained in a sleeping state.

Daryl leaned away from her, not caring that his ribs were on fire. The hopelessness of their situation was seeping into his brain as he laid his head down beside hers. If she didn't wake up, she would need to be carried. But there was no way in hell he was in any state to carry anything, or anyone. It was a low possibility that he could even carry himself up the crest of that hill.

His stomach dropped even further than it had before at the choice which was presented to him. Again. To save himself and leave Carol to die her probable death, or lie down and die beside her.

Fate must've really hated him.

He gritted his teeth as he snarled at the sky. If that bitch wanted him to make that choice then screw her.

Daryl leaned his forehead against Carol's, feeling the warmth in her as his fingers grasped her neck. She was still there, still fighting. And there was no way in hell he was leaving while she was still groping for a chance to survive.

"Damn it, Carol. Wake up!" He practically shouted at her.

Carol remained motionless, unaware of his own face pressed up against hers.

After everything, after Sophia being lost only to end up in that barn, and her asshole of a husband, there wasn't a way in hell a bump on her head could faze her. No way. Carol was stronger than that. She had to be. Daryl could feel himself trying to will his own strength into her, drain himself to save her.

He gripped her shoulder again, shoving her back and forth.

"Don't sleep now, ya hear? Don't. I don't need some coma shit from you. You gotta fight."

Daryl let go of her shoulder, moving his hand to her head. His thumb planted against her temple. Her hair damp in between his fingers.

As if by some unasked prayer, Carol's eyelids fluttered just inches from his face, grazing him with her lashes. Daryl jerked away from her, watching her wakening from a safe distance. Carol's head lolled around in the pillow of color around her head, her face scrunched in either confusion or pain.

At last her blue eyes opened and found his. Her pupils were still slightly dilated, her vision bleary.

"Daryl?" She asked, her voice dazed. "What's goin' on?"

Daryl plucked a piece of grass, wrapping it around his finger, "Nothin'. Makin' sure you weren't goin' in for a permanent sleep."

Carol took a moment to process what he'd said. Then fear flashed across her features as she glanced around the surroundings frantically. Daryl watched as her hands gripped at the leaves, crushing them in her grasp. He sat up, methodically biting harder into his cheek to stifle his pain.

"Everything's kinda foggy. What happened?" Carol asked, slowly sitting up as well.

Daryl unclenched his jaw, "What do you remember?"

Carol nodded to herself for a moment, "Walkers. I think we were running. And a river. I assume we fell in that since I'm all wet?"

Daryl smiled lightly and nodded.

Carol grinned back at him, then it faded as she surveyed him, "You're hurt."

Daryl touched his fingers to his bloodied wound, looking down and away from her groggily worried gaze.

"You lost a lot of blood?"

Reluctantly, he nodded. There was no point in trying to hide it. It was obvious, right in from of both them.

"It's broken," He glanced up at Carol's face. Watched as her eyes widened, face going grave again.

"We have to get back," She said, words slightly slurred.

He nodded again as he shakily stood, head light. Balancing himself on his feet, Daryl held his hand out to Carol as she stared up at him from her nest. Vaguely smiling, she reached up and grasped his hand.

* * *

**A/N**: Review? I want to hear your sweet opinions

_vickih: even busted up Carol and Daryl are still bad ass enough to take out walkers :) I think it's sweet he gave her his jacket.. even if it was wet. _  
_ As for the premier, I liked it but am wondering where all the Caryl scenes the reviewers were talking up went... Maybe on Sunday.. I kind of liked poor Patrick and Zack.._

**Totes. They are the best (and sweetheart Daryl is always a good addition.)**

**I wouldn't be too worried. Story-wise, they seem to be going in that direction. The reviews may or may not be there to mislead or antagonize us into a frenzy... Who knows. I just sit and squee whenever caryl has a screen together because the way Daryl just gazes at her is enough for me. And she smiles so bright at him. They just- *soon***

**Sadder note. I also like Patrick and Zach. Like, a lot. Especially Zach. Super fast, which is weird. I think cause Daryl is starting to love the people in the community, and I just loved them with him. So when people die he just hurts cause he's let himself care about theses people and ...yeah. Okay.**

_Star Starer of Moonlit Skies: I love this story so much! I think you write them very in-character._  
_ I also loooved the premiere! It was a little anti-climatic, but I loved how it was more peaceful and how everyone seemed...happier. And nicer. (And I mostly mean Rick and Carl, but I loved the Caryl interactions too :3)_

**Aww thanks very much! I really try hard at that.**

**That was my fav of the premier. Calm and loving. It was good to see before the crap happens.**

***Sigh* Caryl... :3**

_AnonymousMe03: Don't leave us hanging! Great writing being done here. It's a refreshing change._

**Daw, you're sweet! So, here's a chapt for you. And I'm writing a oneshot from 4x02 that you can look out for if you're interested.**

_Pat83: Love it, you are very good at angsty stories, please update soon! I need as much Caryl as possible before the show will go crazy on Sundays!:)_

**Thanks. Though, I may need to practice those happier stories some. I've never gotten the hang of them... Hope this chapt satisfied caryl cravings.**

_Guest: its cool but they need some romance not friendly moments_

**Thanks! But guest, caryl is sorta built on friendly moments sooo...**

_RhiannonMuir: Eeeppp. I love it. Can't wait for more. I hope they get back safe._

***Hugs* Here's more. I'll work on getting the next chapt out sooner than this one.**


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